Open Season
by Ally1251
Summary: "They have to come out soon, right?" he spoke it more like a statement than a question, "I mean, how much more… Stuff do they have to do?"


Title: Open Season.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Rating: MA for language and sexual themes.

Summary: Set in ASZ, in simpler times than what is currently happening on the show.

* * *

Tara ran down the street towards Deanna's house where she knew she would find Maggie, ignoring the startled looks from other residents as she pounded the pavement. Tripping on the steps and hurtling herself toward the door, knocking frantically, she waited, pacing up and down the porch. Deanna answered, a warm smile vanishing as she took in the distressed form before her.

"Tara? Is everything alright?"

"Uh… Yeah, sure... It's fine," she said unconvincingly, "Can I borrow Maggie for a second?"

"What happened? What's wrong?" Maggie excused herself from Deanna, tossing papers aside, shocked to see her usually chatty friend nearly incapable of speech.

"They… I…. ," Tara swallowed, "Not locked… Walked in…"

"Who?!" Maggie demanded, hands on Tara's shoulders trying to steady her, and her shaky answer brought a grin to Maggie's face.

* * *

It had been three days since any member of Rick's family had entered house 101, choosing to take shelter next door to prepare meals, eat, wash and sleep. Half of the groups clothing and books, as well as Judith's toys and Carl's comics remained abandoned next door. Meanwhile, Maggie and Sascha lent Michonne some spare clean shirts and everyone laughed when Rick entered the kitchen wearing one of Abraham's singlet's that was three sizes too big.

Some, like Carl were brave enough to venture inside the abandoned house. A hour long Judith tantrum had sent him, in a fit of desperation to race through the hallway and snatch Judith's pink stuffed rabbit from the floor of his sisters bedroom, before sprinting back to the porch and slamming the front door behind him.

Their family had being gifted with two houses upon entering Alexandria, houses that were luxury compared to their former lives on the road. And so the group justified the new living arrangements as more than tolerable. Personal space got smaller, people took turns sleeping on the couch, the mound of dishes in the kitchen grew larger and the showers got a whole lot shorter, but it was a sacrifice they were all more than willing to make.

* * *

It had been three days since Carol had stepped outside of the bedroom and she now knew the pattern of the sheets she lay under better than the back of her hand. The early mornings' weak sunlight filtered in through the window, her legs trapped in sheets tangled at her feet, limbs loose and languid. She had been awake for an hour, content to just lay and drift and study the figure beside her.

Daryl stirred, a soft snore and a grunt, rolling over and peaking at her through sleep-ridden eyes. The way he looked when he first woke up and he'd forgotten his surroundings, his eyes reflecting confusion and disbelief, and then all at once in a flood of understanding. The corner of his mouth twitched into a grin.

"Mornin'" he rumbled, rubbing his eyes and scooting closer, "You up early again?"

"Only been awake for a bit, " She spoke softly, brushing a stubborn strand of hair from his eyes, "You were talking in your sleep last night."

"Yea? What was I say'n?"

"Mainly just nonsense, something about squirrels," she smiled, snaking an arm around his back and pulling him closer.

"Nah way."

"Yes way. Something about them stealing your nuts?"

"Stop," he snorted, his hand sliding from her shoulder blades to the small of her back, flingers trailing down, coming to rest on the space between her hip bone and her belly. She wiggled closer, the soft skin of her stomach brushing his, pressing her lips against his and breathing him.

"Ah," her eyes glowed warm, "You are awake."

"Sure am. What did ya want me to do 'bout it?"

"I can think of a few things…"

* * *

Abraham was sprawled on the couch, turning pages of a worn Mills and Boon novel, a busty red head on the cover in the throws of passion. He flicked a glace to Rosita's raised eyebrow as she walked past the couch.

"Not your usual choice of reading material?"

"It sure as shit ain't. My other books are next door though, so…" he let himself trail off, turning the page, "Actually, not too bad…."

* * *

Daryl's sex life had been for the most part, a singular experience. In school he never made any friends, let alone a having a girlfriend; everyone avoided the 'feral redneck' like the plague. Merle, now long expelled, held a reputation throughout the school so most the tough kids avoided Daryl enough to keep him out of trouble.

Of course he'd been with women before, faceless ladies, mainly drug addicts that hung around hoping to score or leech off of Merle's stash. Uncouth, skanky women at a bar, drunk and messy. The events always followed the same pattern. Merle's loud mouth and charm would reel a woman and her friend, and the spare would tag along and get stuck with Daryl.

Barely exchanging a word between them, Daryl could never bring himself to look them in the eyes. The women take their tops off and ask him to do the same, and he would refuse. Then it was minutes of brief, hurried thrusts, trying to ignore the grunts and moans from his brother and company in the other room.

Afterwards the women would usually light a smoke, get dressed and leave without saying a word, and Daryl would be alone again, empty and bitter, turning up the t.v volume to drown out the noise next door.

* * *

 _Her._

 _This didn't feel real, it couldn't be real, but it was and she was here._

 _Her here with him, in his arms, skin pressed together and breathing labored, his heart fit the burst out of his chest. Head swimming, frantic yet perceptively clear; she was all there, all his, clouding his vision and she was his vision, face so close he could count all of her freckles, every line on her features, the depth of her eyes, feeling her breath skit over his face as she exhaled._

 _The scent of her, the sound of her voice raw through her throat as he buried his face into her neck, her legs wrapped around him, locked together and he never wanted to be apart from her._

 _She consumed him, his every move, his every thought. He had everything he needed as long as she was here with him._

* * *

The first time Ed ever hit her was when she dented his car trying to reverse park in their driveway. He had gone quiet, eyes to the ground, blocking out Carol's soft and sincere apology. Then he had struck her hard and fast across the face, sending her stumbling back against the coffee table.

Ed had stormed off to a bar for hours, returning home dead drunk, brandishing a cheap bouquet of flowers from the gas station. She accepted his apology, praying that this was a one time-thing, assuring herself that there were many more hard times ahead; she would have to be strong to make this marriage work.

Sex with Ed was unremarkable, mechanical and selfish. She regarded it as something that had to be done to keep her marriage together. Of course, this only spurned him with more insults to her, calling her a frigid bitch, a prude, but he bore away at her while she traced the pattern on the wallpaper and tried not to make a sound. A year later she fell pregnant with Sophia.

She was hoping a child might make things better between them, but as soon as Ed found out she was carrying a baby girl instead of a son, he lost all interested in her and her pregnancy. She had fooled herself hoping she'd be spared from his abuse while carrying his unborn child, if anything her slowness and tiredness while she carried in her last months only seemed to anger him more.

Graciously, Ed now chose to kick her shins or twist the soft skin of her upper arms when she was slow to bring finish the washing or get up in the morning to make his breakfast. Weak, useless, lazy, more insults to add to Ed's repertoire.

* * *

 _Him._

 _He was a shock to her system, overwhelming, like an addiction._

 _At night when they lay, falling into sleep exhausted, she recalled back to how this had all started. How they had fallen on this bed together in a tangle of limbs, he had kissed her so softly almost like she would break, hesitant; making sure this was what she wanted._

 _He knew her better than any one else in this world, but he didn't know just how much she trusted him. He didn't have to be careful and she didn't want him to be careful._

 _Then they had became fierce, desperate with each other, making up for so much lost time, exploring every inch of skin and letting the hours slip away into nothing._

 _He was beautiful, and he was hers._

* * *

Rick stood on the front porch in the bright morning sun, Judith on his hip, glancing towards next door as he bounced his daughter. Michonne appeared at his side, a cup of tea in her hands.

"They have to come out soon, right?" he spoke it more like a statement than a question, "I mean, how much more… Stuff do they have to do?"

Michonne blew on her hot tea and surveyed Rick over the rim of the cup, "Judging from what I heard last night when I came back from patrol, still a fair amount of stuff," she gently brushed a finger across Judith impossibly soft cheek, allowing the little one to wrap her tiny fingers around one of her braids, fascinated. A wry smile played on her face, "Don't worry, I'm sure they'll run out of food eventually."

* * *

Carol lay in his arms, her forehead against his cheek, her nose brushing his scraggly beard. The silence was interrupted by a loud gurgle emanating from Daryl's mid section, she rubbed his belly consolingly, allowing her hand to skirt under the sheets that were splayed over his naked hips. He swatted her hand away playfully.

"Woman, ya ruined me… Again."

"And…" She shifted, peeking over the edge of the bed, "We're out of protein bars," with a resigned sigh she kissed his cheek and kicked the covers away, "We might actually have to leave this room," she rolled back over throwing her legs over the side of the bed. Her skin creased by the tangled sheets, her bare back to him stretching, muscles shifting under flesh.

"I'm gonna have a shower. Maybe go downstairs and see if there's more food in the pantry? Then, come join me," the corner of her mouth curved upwards as she turned, walking to the adjoining bathroom, her absence followed by the sound of water hitting tiles.

Daryl reluctantly heaved himself off of the mattress, throwing on a pair jeans and a crumpled shirt that had lay discarded on the floor from several days ago. He padded his way down the stairs to the kitchen, scratching his beard absentmindedly.

"Rick?! Carl? Ya here?" he craned his head around the doorway, checking for any of the family, not really expecting to see anyone. The house had been quiet for days now, they had guessed the group had chosen to keep their distance, which had suited them just fine.

He went into to the kitchen and peered in the cupboard, discovering that every shelf was bare, empty packets scattered carelessly as if someone had rushed in and grabbed what they could carry. No food left. Those assholes had cleaned them out.

He walked through the front door and took in the view down the street, only to spot Michonne, Rick and baby Judith on his left, deep in discussion on the neighbouring porch. Their heads turned in surprise and their eyes widened to see Daryl standing, barefooted and dazed next door. No one spoke a word, choosing instead to remain in an impromptu stare down.

"Hey Rick, 'Chonne. Y'all right?" Daryl was the first to break the silence.

Rick raised his eyebrow in Daryl's direction and started to laugh, Michonne joining in. Daryl's eyes narrowed, "What the hell is so funny?"

"Lost track of time, Daryl?" Michonne blurted out in between giggles.

"I… Wha..."

"We didn't think we were ever going to see you again. We'dve thought you were dead except for the sounds of life we heard…."

"Wha?!"

"Come over when you and Carol are ready," Rick called over, cutting his friend short, "Maggie's making breakfast."

Then the two of them, Judith in tow, turned heel and walked back inside leaving Daryl sputtering on the porch.

* * *

"Ready?"

They pair stood on the porch, shoulder to shoulder, bracing themselves for what was to come as they walked through that door.

"Nope. All the shit that Glenn's gonna give me?"

"Well, I would technically call that payback," Carol gave him a look that indicated he didn't have a leg to stand on, "You teased the hell out of him and Maggie back at the prison. We could just go back to the house you know," she suggested with a casual shrug and a smile, "Disappear for a few more days?"

"We're gonna have to face them one way or another," he took a steadying breath, gripping her hand tighter, "Let's go."

He reached out his free hand and turned the handle, pushing the door in and stepping through.

The whole family was gathered in the lounge room, cramped but comfortable, balancing plates of food on their laps and talking animatedly. Heads turned to the two of them as they both stepped past the threshold and into the room.

Forks cluttered to plates conversations came to an immediate halt. All eyes were on them. Rick stood with a knowing smile in the corner, feeding Judith. Silence, then, all at once, several voices belted at them.

"WELL, GOD, IT'S ABOUT TIME!"

"Thanks you guys, now my eyes will never feel clean again…"

"WOOOOOO, YEAH!"

"… Jesus dicking Christ we thought you two would never come out."

"I'm impressed that you two were able to engage in intercourse for such an extended period of time…"

Daryl threw his hands in the air, face flushed and channeling spooked deer, turned heel, "Tha's it, I'm out!"

Carol caught his arm and tugged him back, lips brushing his ear and laughing, "You're not going anywhere. I'm not suffering this by myself."

"Come sit down you two," Rick made space for them on the couch, scooting Carl to the floor beside Michonne, "Everyone settle. Let them at least eat some breakfast. Then once everyone is fed," his raised his eye brows and smirked, "It's open season."


End file.
